Wine & Landscape: Exploring Volcanic Regions

For the fourth installment of Wine Salon Sessions: Wine & Landscape, we explored how some of the world’s most dramatic terrains shape not only flavour, but culture, agriculture and ingenuity. Before the tasting, I asked everyone what came to mind when they thought of volcanic wine. The first words were instinctive: 'soil', 'minerality', 'lava', 'smoke'... By the end of the evening, the language shifted to deeper meanings. People spoke of Volcanic wines representing 'resilience', 'versatility', 'power' and, still, 'minerality', but with a much wider sense of what that might mean.

We opened on Mount Etna with Planeta Metodo Classico Brut, made from native white grape variety, Carricante on the slopes of Europe's tallest and most active volcanoes. Etna gave us the evening’s most mythic starting point: fire and rebirth, ancient lava flows, terraced vineyards, and old vines. The wine was exceptionally crisp and elegant, a perfect Volcanic sparkling wine.

From there, we moved to Suavia Tremenalto 2020 from Soave, made from Garganega grown on basaltic soils. This was an important reminder that not all volcanic wines come from smoking craters or dramatic black landscapes. Some ancient volcanic regions are quieter, and resemble bucolic green rolling hills, but the evidence of their past is under our feet. I was lucky to visit Soave last year and brought soil and rock samples from Suavia so we could touch and see the dark volcanic material that the vines grow in.

Santorini brought a completely different expression with Estate Argyros Cuvée Monsignori 2022, made from 200-year-old Assyrtiko vines shaped by wind, drought, salt and scarcity. To understand the island’s extraordinary basket-trained vines, we used vines from my own garden and tried to shape them into kouloura baskets. It was far harder than it looks, which made the ingenuity of Santorini’s growers feel even more remarkable.

From Tenerife, Suertes del Marqués El Esquilón 2019 took us to the black volcanic landscape of Mount Teide, where pre-phylloxera vines and the braided trenzado training system speak of isolation, preservation and resilience. We looked at how vines are woven and trained there to survive the Atlantic's temperament.

We returned to Etna with Tenuta Tascante Contrada Sciaranuova 2020, a Nerello Mascalese from ancient lava flows, that the guests agreed resembled a world-class Pinot Noir with it's brilliant pale ruby hue, and distictive cherry nose and ethereal tannins.

Finally we finished with H.M. Borges Sercial 10 Years Old Reserve from Madeira, a volcanic island whose wine became famous not only through geology, but through exploration, Atlantic trade and maritime history.

The wines were among the most fascinating, and perhaps the most divisive, of the series so far. Some found the smoky, funky, mineral aromas challenging; others absolutely relished them. That tension made the conversation better. Volcanic wines are not always easy, but they are rarely boring.

To bring the regions' flavours to the table, I served bites inspired by Italy, Spain, Greece and Portugal. There were papas arrugadas, Tenerife’s iconic wrinkled potatoes, boiled whole in heavily salted water with a spicy tomato pepper sauce, alongside good taramasalata from the local fishmonger, aged Manchego, pecorino, sliced chorizo, Italian caper berries and salted olive oil crisps. I also brought back the now much-loved dip from the Polpo cookbook, made with anchovies, chickpeas, tahini and parsley, served on crostini. For the finale, with the Sercial Madeira, we had pistachio cigarillos and salted roasted pistachios, a perfect match for the wine’s tangy, saline, nutty intensity.

The table was dressed in earthy browns, amber, black and red to evoke lava, rock and volcanic vineyards. I used beach stones with natural holes as candle holders, alongside tropical-inspired flowers, trying to conjure a landscape rather than simply decorate a room.

By the end, the comparison with the human condition felt unmistakable. Why make wine in such difficult places? Why plant vines where the earth has erupted, fractured or burned? Perhaps because stress, in the right conditions, can create depth. The vine becomes a survivor. And sometimes, from the most extreme landscapes, come the most memorable wines.